I remember New Year's Day and how I knew all would be good with my life. I had already been to Rogers Memorial Hospital once and I was never going back. I had the support I needed and even though I wasn't really doing my exposure therapy, I would be okay. Fast forward to April when my family went to Disney World for my senior trip. I remember my entire family and my fiancé getting frustrated with me when we had to do everything by the itinerary. No exceptions and no flexibility with the schedule. I remember my mother looking at me and saying, "Bailee, you're slipping." I hated her for saying that on my senior trip. I hated the feeling that my whole family wanted me to fail. I hated that I felt like I was trying as hard as I possibly could, but it still wasn't good enough. My disorder was winning. Little did I know that they were completely right and they just were worried for me.
One month later in May of 2016, I graduated high school. Most people would look at this day and see the pretty pictures and think "Wow! She turned out okay. She looks happy!". This is so far from the truth of that day. Behind the perfect family photos and the makeup, there were tears. There were panic attacks. There were arguments with my fiancé about how I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't have the strength to go on. I called my mom and told her I just couldn't fight it anymore. That night will forever be burned in my brain as one of the defining moments in my journey.
Fast forward to June when I got the news from my mother that I could admit to Rogers for the second time on July 7. I panicked, I cried, and I hated myself. I continuously thought "Why go back? I'm just going to exhaust myself and work so hard just to relapse again." This was the lowest of the low points for me. Then on June 27, I hit rock bottom. I had to close at work and I felt so overwhelmed with the need to perfect everything I was cleaning that I eventually just gave up and sat in silence while my coworkers finished up. I held back the tears and told myself that I was worthless and I would be better off dead. I knew I couldn't go on.
I returned home that evening and told my mom in my garage that I couldn't go on. I needed to give up. I couldn't do it anymore. I screamed at the top of my lungs through the tears that my OCD had won and I didn't have the motivation to fight it anymore. She took me to the front porch after threatening to take me to the hospital several times and we waited for my boyfriend Jake to show up. He came and he hugged me and we talked. My family and Jake told me and told me how much they loved me and how they couldn't imagine life without me. They said they would help me and always be there for me. They just kept pleading and pleading. That is when Jake got desperate and pulled out the ring. To most people, this sounds like the worst proposal story on the face of the earth and maybe it wasn't ideal. To me, it was the one glimmer of hope that I had. It meant that I wasn't worthless to my family and friends. It meant that I was wanted. It was my promise to Jake that I wouldn't give up so we could spend forever together. He told me how he had hope for us and he couldn't wait to spend forever with me. He asked me to marry him and I said yes.
Fast forward to October 7. Three months to the day at Rogers and I was home. I had never felt stronger or more terrified. I was so scared of relapse that it made me scared to act on anything. I worked with my therapist on exposures surrounding relapse and many other triggers. I feel stronger in that area of my life now. I had won the battle, but the war was still going on as it always would.
Finally, fast forward to December. I am struggling with depression here and there, but I am doing exposures daily and working so hard to keep my OCD at bay. I am fighting like a warrior and challenging myself every second. I worry about many things still, but nothing like it used to be. I start community college in January and as scary as it may be for me to go to school, I am going to do it and I will succeed. 2016 may have been a rocky year, but I am determined to end it on a high note and rock 2017.